Rules of Survival
by LeLapinNoir
Summary: AU: Shepard never joined the Alliance and is stuck on Earth during the Reaper invasion. She finds herself just trying to learn the rules of survival. What happens when an Alliance shuttle gets shot down and a newcomer enters her fold? Will she leave all that she's ever known? M for eventual violence and gore.


**PROLOGUE**

A heavy grunt. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her muscles strained. Sweat dripped from her furrowed brow on to her open lips, casting a salty taste on to her tongue. She relinquished the last of her duffel bags into the hidden underground bunker, relieved that the burden had finally been (quite literally) taken off her shoulders in this atrociously humid Georgia summer day. She glanced over her shoulder, out of the dirt-encrusted window of the abandoned home that housed her basement-turned-bunker. When she noted that her presence remained undetected, she jumped down the hatch with her bags, ecstatic to feel the kiss of the air conditioning on her sweat-soaked body.

Before returning her attention to the numerous duffel bags that littered the floor, she closed the metallic hatch and fiddled with every bolt and lock on the door before slamming down on a rusted metal lever. While her hand was on the lever, the familiar, nails-on-a-chalkboard screech of the bookshelf could be heard as it slid across the dirty floor outside the bunker's entrance, concealing it from view. Once satisfied, she paused for one breath longer to determine whether or not Amy had awakened during her excursion. The lack of an ear-piercing wail from the sixteen month old revealed that no, she had not.

"Garrett! I'm back!" She called out quietly, nabbing a single backpack from the dozen or so she had thrown inside. She brought it to the dingy kitchen, where Garrett sat patiently at a shabby wooden table. She set the bag on the counter that overlooked the dilapidated table before rifling through it, in order to organize the rations neatly on the counter.

"Another Reaper landed near the city, there must have been three times as many husks out on the streets than there normally is. We'll bunker down for the next few days, wait it out and then go to the next safe house…" Her voice trailed into the awkward silence. She dreaded moments like this, where the silence was thick enough to make her feel claustrophobic.

The tension within the room intensified and she continued to feel uncomfortable, her discomfort only causing her to pay closer attention to the obnoxious way that her tank top clung to her sweaty skin or the cottonmouth sensation on her tongue from dehydration. She tapped her fingers momentarily on the counter before looking at her brother, whose icy blue eyes bore into her own. The Reapers took just about everything from everyone, including his voice after they harvested his wife, Layla. Hoping to ease the awkwardness, she recalled what she had stowed away in her pack earlier this morning.

"I got a present for Amy, I think she'll like it- tell me what you think. Isn't it adorable?" She ruffled through the bag and pulled out a stuffed toy. The plush toy took the form of a sickeningly cute, smiling light pink cat. She held the doll up for her brother to see, smiling. A piece of one ear had been singed, and dirt smeared its fluffy tail, but it was the first intact toy she had come across since the Reapers conquered Earth. She loved her brother's daughter almost as though Amy was her own flesh and blood, and though she tried her best to ensure Amy was sheltered as much as possible from the Armageddon that knocked on their door, there was only so much she could do to create the illusion of "normal". However, finding toys and other gizmos for the infant were small blessings. Just thinking of the chubby fist of her niece grabbing the soft kitten when she awoke from her nap was enough to cause a dopey smile to creep onto her face.

Garrett did not smile, did not thank her, did not utter a single peep.

Annoyed, she continued to hold the smiling toy up to him, as though its eternal cheerfulness would warm his frigid, dead heart. As expected, it did not- and this only irked her all the more. The smile that had crept onto her face fell into a scowl and she slammed the toy down bitterly.

"Do you think this is easy for me?"

Every fiber within her being yearned to explode, to shriek at the idiot before her until she was blue in the face, to vent until she could no longer draw breath, but her impressive willpower halted her from doing anything that would wake the infant in the next room. She thumped her chest with her open palm.

"Did it ever occur to you that you're not the only one that's miserable? You think I like scurrying around, trying to establish defenses and make sure that we have enough food in this shithole of a basement so that we can _maybe_ see tomorrow?"

She paused, mid-rant, hoping to have elicit some sort of response from the man before her. She swung around the counter so she was directly in front of him, and then began to tap her foot impatiently. Flabbergasted, she threw her hands up in the air before swinging her right hand down to wag a finger before his apathetic face. The words that then came tumbling from her lips were potent with venom and animosity.

"Fine. Ignore me. But, you know who you can't ignore?" She shoved her finger abruptly towards Amy's room. "Your _daughter. _For Hell's sake, she's not even two, Garrett, how can you leave her like this? I know you miss Layla, hell, there hasn't been one night where she hasn't haunted my dreams, too- but, _you need to be strong_. For Amy's sake, for my sake." The last sentence came out somewhere between a cry and a plea. A plea that was met with no response.

A fire was set aflame in her belly. She could feel the pulse of her blood surge throughout her limbs as adrenaline coursed through her veins like shards of glass. Every woe and grievance, every close encounter with an indoctrinated comrade, every bullet dodged, every moment spent on Earth during the Reaper's occupation accumulated into the pit of her stomach. As she awaited her brother's response, the knot rose, from her stomach, up, up, up, into her chest until it settled into the back of her throat, choking her. After partaking in a staring match with her older sibling, the knot burst, and so did every ounce of restraint she possessed.

She lashed out, punching Garrett square in the face, successfully knocking him from his chair.

However, Garrett Shepard felt no pain from his sister's outburst. In fact, he had felt nothing for a very long time, for he had died months ago. What had gone flying across the room was no person, but a picture frame. After the oppressive loneliness and the ceaseless responsibility of a newborn overwhelmed Shepard's psyche, she had taken to speaking to a framed photo of her beloved brother, the only solace she found in these dismal days. Like a wounded animal, she let out a shriek that left her throat raw, her chest huffing dramatically over the shattered glass remains of the frame that were now scattered about the floor.

"WHY?" The word was drawn out and cracked. Everything began to hurt, from her trembling hands to her broken heart that felt as though it had been pierced with a cold knife.

"You said you would always be there for me! How could you leave me behind? You were my brother, my best friend!" Her words now an accusation. She felt the carefully laid pieces of her resolution crumbling to powder, her iron will shattered, and her sanity along with it.

The warm, salty tears now rolled freely down her rosy cheeks and her breaths now came in shallow pants as she wrestled with her unchecked emotions. She squeezed her eyes shut as her head began to spin. Her knees buckled under the weight of her body before finally giving out. She collapsed to her knees, paying little attention to the bits of broken glass which dug painful little rivets of red into her skin.

"Garrett, I've never been on my own…. I- I can't do this by myself…. We've always been a team, ever since we were out on the streets as kids, you always protected me…" She shuddered and scooted backwards until she felt the cool weight of the counter fully against her back. It felt as though someone had her lungs in a vice, each gasp of oxygen more painful than the last. "Aside from Amy, I don't have anyone… It's been too quiet since you left…. I'm so… I'm so alone."

Another burst of tears managed to escape her thick lashes. She leaned forward so that she could nab the photo, now liberated from its frame. It was not necessarily the best picture ever taken of her brother, it did not convey how crooked his smile was, or reveal that easygoing nature of his. She gingerly swiped remaining bits of glass from his face before speaking again, her voice raw.

"What I would give to have you back. To see you one more time… to say goodbye." She curled up into a ball, cradling the palm-sized photo against her chest.

"Please… help me, one last time." She whimpered, before nestling her forehead onto her knees and weeping in the middle of her shithole bunker, located in the middle of no where, right in the middle of the Reaper apocalypse.

In her room, Amy awoke from all the commotion outside. And she too, began to wail.

* * *

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed! Reviews/thoughts/criticisms are VERY welcome :)


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